Tales of the Sith
by SithMasterJosh
Summary: An anthology of Sith short stories which loosely tie into my New Empire series.
1. Redemption: Erul Monn's Tale

**Redemption: Erul Monn's Tale**

**Circa 223 BBY**

A line of fire traced its way across Erul's left cheek; flesh and fur were singed away down to the bone. The wounded Shistavanen snarled in pain, baring his yellowed fangs which gleamed dully in the dim artificial light. The exotic weapon hummed close to his ear, unmoving after its painful bite.

"Erul Monn," said a smoky female voice. Its smooth even timbre seemed to act in harmony with the buzzing magenta blade held a hair's breadth from Erul's face. The light blinded him, blotting out his attacker in an amorphous blob of color hovering over his vision. But her scent was strong in his powerfully sensitive nostrils. She had recently eaten nerf steak, she wore Rancor leather, and she was Human. But what her scent didn't tell him was _who_ she was. A full-grown Shistavanen like Erul was far from defenseless, but everything he sensed about this woman told him that he was hopelessly at her mercy. Indeed, he found himself unable to move, incapacitated as though an invisible hand was pinning him down.

_Who are you?_ he demanded in the harsh, snarling language of Uvena Prime, his homeworld.

"I am your savior, Wolfman." She lit another glowing blade; the additional light seared Erul's sensitive eyes and made him wince in pain.

He was lying, mysteriously paralyzed, in a grimy alleyway on a tiny moon inaccurately, or perhaps satirically, called Leviathan. Originally a resort moon orbiting the gas giant Belerephon on the Outer Rim, the company fell on hard times and over the centuries, Leviathan had degenerated into a den of thieves and homeless of all species. Some had dubbed it "New Nar Shaddaa." Others simply cursed it and fled the moment the could.

Erul was one of several hundred homeless Shistavanen who occupied the dirty shadows of Leviathan. He had been the pilot of the _Fra'shnok_, an old _Gravnii_-class transport, and had once made his living shipping goods from the Republic Core to the sparsely populated Outer Rim Territories. He'd soon discovered that smuggling brought in far more credits than his transport business. His arrangement worked beautifully for several years. He was wealthy, successful. But he had grown complacent and stupid. It didn't take long for the Republic to catch on that he spent far more credits than it paid him. He was forced to flee Republic space, leaving his business, his money, and his family, a mate and small pup, behind. That had been ten years ago. He'd been living on Leviathan ever since. Whoever this person was, he assumed she was a Republic agent sent to bring him back.

_I'll not go to prison! You will have to kill me!_ he growled. He shifted his position, putting a hand up against the glare. An invisible force shoved him back down.

"I'm not here to bring you to justice, Erul. Your smuggling record doesn't concern me. I am here to bring you to glory." With an ascending hiss, the two blades of light receded back into their hilts. He'd heard of lightsabers before but had never seen one up close. He knew they were the Jedi weapon of choice. Was this woman a Jedi of some kind?

"What do you want with me?" Erul asked in heavily accented Basic. His tongue fumbled with the alien language. "I have done nothing." Though the blades were gone, their bright afterimage remained burned into his retinas, blocking out his attacker's face. He made a move and when she didn't try to stop him, he stood and dusted himself off with heavy clawed hands. He stood easily a full head taller but didn't dare try anything against her. He'd felt the power she wielded and wasn't in a hurry to feel it again.

"Follow me," she commanded, turning and walking away without further instruction. His vision was clearing and he could see that she was a petite red haired Human perhaps, forty years old, and not unlike the millions of other Humans on Leviathan. Though he hadn't had much interaction with Humans, he recognized that she was a very attractive specimen. Though she wore thick black robes, she moved with finely honed grace and Erul could tell that she had a fighter's build. The aura of mystery that enshrouded her was practically a tangible thing. She carried lightsabers but was no Jedi; of that he was certain. So who _was_ she?

The silent walk toward the docking bay where her ship was berthed gave Erul a chance to gauge the severity of his now throbbing wound. A centimeter-deep furrow had been burned into the flesh of his snout and the hair around the wound had been singed and fused together. He'd be scarred for life. However long _that_ would be.

_I demand you tell me who you are!_ he roared after several blocks of agonizing silence. His blood was pumping hot and the anger exploded like a volcano. He reached out with one massive paw; before she could react he had grabbed her by the throat and shoved her up against a wall. Her feet dangled centimeters above the garbage strewn ground. _Tell me NOW!_

Their eyes met for the first time and Erul was shocked to see sickly pools of yellow rimmed in blood staring back at him. There was no fear in those eyes, none at all. If anything, there was _admiration_. She struggled to smile against his tight grip but managed only a weak grimace. He loosened his hold for just a second; that second was all she needed. Before he knew what was happening, he felt a strange pressure in his chest and he was flying through the air. He slammed hard into an overflowing trash receptacle, denting the duranium casing. Stunned, he didn't even try to get up when he heard her light footsteps approaching.

"Very nicely done." He heard the respect in her tone, the approval. Her compliment was sincere. "I'm impressed with you, Erul Monn. You've just convinced me that I made the right choice." Erul involuntarily shrank back when she extended a hand to help him to his feet.

"Please," he said in Basic. "Who _are_ you? What have I done?" Her hand retracted and Erul felt the pressure again. It was a sensation like invisible hands grasping him around the arms and waist. Untouched by any physical means he was hoisted bodily to his feet.

"Walk with me and I will tell you." She swept her arm ahead of her, inviting him to go first. He caught a glint of metal as her robe was briefly parted with the gesture, revealing the lightsabers at her hip.

Erul nervously shuffled in the direction she had motioned, his fur standing anxiously on end. When she spoke again, he gave a soft whimper at the abrupt break in silence.

"What do you know of the Jedi?" she asked him pointedly.

His ears flicked forward in confusion. "The Jedi? Nothing. Why should I?"

She shrugged. "No reason," she admitted.

"_You_ are Jedi?" he asked her.

"No," the woman said, almost too quickly, as though he'd unknowingly touched a nerve. "No, I am not Jedi," she assured him. "I could never be _that_ cruel."

"But Jedi…," Erul said, "…are they not protectors of the Republic?"

"Ha!" Her sharp laugh bounced off the high buildings around them and echoed mockingly back at them for several seconds. "That is what they would have you all think."

Erul risked stopping in place. He turned and looked her in the eyes, those eyes which frightened and disturbed him but also intrigued and fascinated him. "You carry the Jedi weapon," he said, putting a massive hand to his injured face. "The laser sword, yes?"

"The Jedi are not the only ones who wield the lightsaber." Her tone had become flat and icy; whatever she was, she resented being compared to the Jedi. "Some have opposed the Jedi over the years. They wield the Force and the lightsaber the same as the Jedi but follow a very different code."

"And that is what you are? One of these 'opposers'?"

"Yes." She smiled, a gesture which somehow only served to frighten Erul even more. "We are called Sith. I am Darth Varnix, a Dark Lady of the Sith."

Erul didn't know what to say. He'd never heard of the Sith. He couldn't imagine what this Darth Varnix wanted with him. "I still don't understand."

"You have a power," Varnix said. "A power that will make you great. You are very strong in the Force."

Erul's lower jaw opened as if to say something then snapped shut again.

"In your life, have you never felt as though you were different? Perhaps you knew when something was about to happen, or you could sense when someone was lying to you even though you didn't understand how."

Erul shook his head. "No," he growled doggedly. "No, that is _instinct_. My kind has such instinct. It's no power. No Force."

"Oh, but it is," she pressed. "It's a wondrous power that, over time, you will craft and bend to your will. It will do your bidding and submit to your every command." She extended a hand that began to glow with crackling energy. What appeared to be electricity arced between her splayed fingers. Harsh blue light sparkled in Erul's unblinking eyes, which were wide in amazement. "Do you want this power?" she asked. She watched as the Shistavanen stood transfixed by her show.

Erul slowly nodded his head. "You say I can do that?" he growled skeptically.

"In time," she answered with a nod. "Your training will not be easy. The life of a Sith can be…_brutal_."

Erul shrugged. "More so than this place?" he asked, looking around at the crumbling structures.

Varnix raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps." She closed her fist and the crackling energy evaporated in her palm. "But you will be made better for it. Broken and rebuilt stronger."

_You truly believe I have the potential to be one of these Sith?_ he snarled in his own tongue.

Varnix nodded her head a fraction. "I sensed your power from orbit. Your pain and anger drew me to you like a beacon in the fog of life on this pathetic world. If you can be taught to tap into it, your potential is unimaginable." She nodded toward the half-vacant spaceport several blocks away where her ship sat waiting. "Come, your destiny lies ahead."


	2. Prey: The Tale of Syn

**Prey: The Tale of Syn**

**Circa 200 BBY**

There was nowhere to run that _he_ couldn't find her.

The young Ranth Jedi Padawan ducked inside an abandoned apartment and crouched breathless against a wall, allowing herself only seconds to rest before continuing her ascent back to the Coruscant top level and back to the Jedi Temple. She had to survive, to warn the Jedi that the Sith had returned. She _had_ to.

The events of the last hours replayed in her head over and over again.

It was supposed to be a simple lesson: Master Loreth, a powerful Kel Dor Jedi Master, had taken her along into the Underworld of the city to try to settle a dispute between rival gangs. Normally Jedi were not bothered with such trivial matters, but he felt it would be a good real-world lesson for her to observe.

Leadership from both gangs met in a local cantina called the Bloody Bantha. Master Loreth was to moderate.

"But Master," she had asked, "why are Jedi being involved with something like this? Isn't it a little…_below_ us?"

Loreth had given her a stern look as they entered the Bloody Bantha. "Syn, there is no problem that is below a Jedi," he chided, his voice grating through his breath mask vocoder. "It is exactly that sort of thinking that can lead to the Dark Side. The Jedi are the servants of the people. _All_ of the people."

"Of course," Syn said, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Master."

"Do not be sorry, child. _Learn_. If we can peacefully solve the problems between even just these gangs, think of the potential lives we have saved." In the dim light of the cantina, her master's fearsome appearance grew even more intimidating. Kel Dors found the air of most habitable worlds to be toxic. Most beings found Master Loreth's ocular covers and breathing apparatus to be unsettling, something he liked to use to his advantage.

As they had made their way through the dingy slum of a bar, Syn glanced nervously around at some of the shadier patrons. There was a Twi'lek woman who was missing half of her left lekku. The muted light deepened the shadows on her face, highlighting a patchwork of scars. Beside her sat a very aggressive looking Trandoshan. He wore a plain jumpsuit that was torn and stained in places. A Shistavanen wolf man nursed his drink at the bar. His fur was black and wiry. A nasty scar traced its way down his left cheek, devoid of fur. Syn was startled when he made eye contact with her from across the room. Embarrassed that she'd been caught staring, she looked away quickly, almost knocking over an Ugnaught patron.

She found it hard to focus; the Force was clouded with all of the guilt, all of the ill-intent that filled the place like a foul cloud of noxious gas. It would make it hard to sense danger. But, she trusted her master. He wouldn't lead her into a perilous situation. Nevertheless, she worried. Her fear, Master Loreth had always told her, was her greatest weakness. Try as she might, though, she was always afraid. She constantly questioned her abilities as a Jedi. Who ever heard of a Jedi Knight who was afraid of everything?

The odd couple made their way to the back of the cantina, to the poorest lit booths where the most private of conversations took place.

She saw her master give a subtle nod to a small group of beings occupying one of the larger booths. They were a motley crew of aliens and Humans. They all wore various pieces of salvaged light armor, flight suits, and civilian clothing. She knew that each one was armed with black market weapons of all kinds. All that visibly differentiated them were the symbols painted on their shoulder pieces or tattooed on their forearms identifying their particular gang. Half of them carried a mark which looked to be a serpent devouring itself tail first while snaking through a skull. The Death Heads. The other half wore two red crescents encasing a solid red circle. Those would be the Red Moons. Both parties sent waves of hatred towards one another but were behaving themselves. For now.

The two Jedi sat and Master Loreth proceeded to mediate their negotiations over territory. They lasted for what seemed like hours, almost coming to blows twice. But Master Loreth was an expert negotiator. Both times, he managed to calm them down and avoid any bloodshed. Syn sat quietly and watched her master work. It was no wonder the Jedi Council held him in such high regard. Master Yoda himself bowed before Loreth's negotiating skills. Within four hours, they were finished and both parties were satisfied.

"That was wonderful, Master," said Syn as they exited the cantina. "And not a drop of blood spilled."

"Yes, but something troubles me," he said quietly as they turned down an alleyway. Their speeder was parked a short distance away.

"What is it, Master?" Syn's short fur rippled nervously. There was that fear again.

The Kel Dor shook his head. "I'm not sure. Something felt…off. It was too easy."

"Oh, Master," Syn gave a none-too-convincing laugh. "I think _you_ worry too much."

"Perhaps," Loreth responded without much conviction. "Nevertheless, I would like to get back to the Temple and meditate on it further."

As they approached their speeder, Master Loreth froze.

"Syn," he said. "Run!"

The moment Syn's brain comprehended the Jedi Master's words, the perpetual night of Coruscant's lower levels was suddenly illuminated with a blinding flash, its relative silence broken by a deafening explosion. Just ten meters ahead of them, their speeder had detonated like a star going nova.

The force of the blast sent both Master Loreth and Syn flying backwards off their feet. Dazed from the concussion, the young Ranth looked around for her master. She found him rising quickly to his feet, his robes smoking from dozens of tiny burns where red-hot shrapnel had peppered him. He turned to her.

"Syn? Are you alright?"

"Y-yes, Master. I think so," she said, her voice shaking.

"Then run! Go to the Temple. Tell them that the Sith have returned!"

"What?" But the word was drowned out by the familiar _snap-hiss_ of a lightsaber. Beside the flaming shell of their ruined speeder, a dark shape was approaching, wielding a blood red blade.

"Run!" Loreth cried, igniting his own yellow blade and speeding toward the mystery figure.

"Master!" she called, but the two had already met and begun exchanging blows. That was the last she had seen of her master. She had turned and ran.

That was an hour ago, and still she ran. Not long after leaving the scene, she felt the crippling blow of her master's death. The anguish had almost overtaken her. She allowed herself to sob as she fled upwards, but she never stopped. She knew that that _thing_ was stalking her. Despite her head start, she felt it closing in on her. At times, it was as close as a few hundred meters. Not yet a Knight, she knew she couldn't face it and hope to survive. She had to reach the surface. If the Sith had returned after nearly a millennium, the Jedi must be told.

She composed herself and pushed on. Even now, she sensed the Sith hunting her, like a predatory animal. And she was the prey. It was close. The distance between them had closed considerably since she'd stopped to rest.

_Fyarl_, she swore to herself. The all too familiar cold fingers of terror crept up her back. Her fur stood on end. How could she have stopped for so long? She felt its presence less than a hundred meters away. It knew where she was. She slunk deeper into the apartment, hoping to find another exit. She found one that led into an adjoining apartment. The air was foul in the Underworld. She shuffled in near total dark, afraid to light a glow stick. For a feline species, the Ranth had relatively poor night vision and for Syn, the Force wasn't much aid. She found herself constantly tripping over pieces of furniture and nests that creatures had built and discarded over the centuries. She had just located another door when she stopped. There was a sound from the first apartment.

She gasped softly. _It's here._ Fear rolled off of her in waves.

She tried a door but it was jammed in its tracks by hundreds of years' worth of grime. Using her short claws, she attempted to clear away some of the dust and dirt that gummed up the door, but even her species' natural strength wasn't enough to free it from its ancient resting place. It was an exercise in futility. She was trapped.

_No_, she though. _A Jedi is never out of options._ She unclipped the lightsaber from her belt. As soon as she lit the weapon, the Sith would know exactly where she was, but she didn't see that she had any other choice. Closing her eyes, she thumbed the activator. A brilliant green blade erupted from the hilt and she got to work quickly cutting a hole in the door. She heard another saber ignite in the adjacent room just as she made the final slash. Flooded with panic, she extinguished her blade and leapt through the still glowing hole. She was in a hallway of some kind. A long hallway. She ran.

Behind her, she heard heavy foot falls as the Sith pursued her. In the total darkness, all she could see was a red lightsaber moving as its master ran after her. The light it cast wasn't enough to highlight any of the Sith's features, but she could tell that it was big.

The blade seemed to be shrinking into the distance. She was doing it. She was outrunning the Sith! The thought was barely formed in her mind when she ran straight into something solid. She hit a wall.

She didn't even feel the pain of the impact. All she felt was disappointment that she had failed her master. Her fall seemed to happen in slow motion. She had time to contemplate the extent of her failure, to realize that the Sith would now go undetected still by the Jedi. She had indeed failed the very Order itself.

Finally, after what seemed like minutes, she hit the ground painfully on her shoulder. And there she lay, stunned, as the Sith approached her.

The light from its saber was bright now as the Sith stood over her.

"You have given me quite the hunt, Padawan," he said in a harsh growl, his speech heavily accented. He held the glowing blade higher so as to illuminate his face.

She squinted before recognizing his face. It was the scarred Shistavanen from the Bloody Bantha!

"But—," she said, barely able to speak. "But how…?"

"Did I know that you and your Master would be there tonight?" he finished her question. "Think on it a moment, little one."

She rubbed her face, trying to clear her head. Her pointed ears twitched as she realized what he meant. Master Loreth said the mission had been too easy. "The gangs! The whole thing was a—"

"Was a trap," he confirmed. "One that you fell into nicely, I might add. The Jedi are so predictable."

"I don't understand," Syn said. "Why Master Loreth?"

The Sith slowly shook his head and pulled back his lips in what was more sneer than smile. The light from his blade glinted off his wicked fangs.

"You were after…" Syn trailed off.

"That's right," the Sith said, its voice a snarl. "_You_."

"But why? Who _are_ you?"

"I require an Apprentice," he said simply. "I am Darth Lycan."

"You can't possibly believe I'd join you," she said, her voice weak and wholly unconvincing. She was pathetic. A true Jedi would be on her feet, combating the Sith until death. But she still lay on the ground, too terrified to move, barely able to speak.

"Look at you," he barked. "You are no more Jedi than I am. Right now, you are weak and pathetic. But I could teach you to be strong!"

"But, I'm…afraid," she said, voice trembling.

"I can show you how to gain strength from your fear. A Sith feeds on fear, both his own and that of those around him." He knelt down to her. "Join me and you could conquer your fear." Light reflected in his eyes, making them glow. His breath stank of rotting meat.

"I can't," Syn said. "I—I am _Jedi_." There was no certainty in her voice. If _she_ didn't believe her own words, the Sith _definitely_ didn't.

The Shistavanen uttered a guttural laugh. "Who are you fooling, child? You wear the trappings of the Jedi, but you are not one of them. And you never will be. You have great strength within you. I have felt it. And it is not in the Light but in the Dark."

"How can you know this?" Syn moved slowly up to a sitting position.

"I have the gift of foresight," the Sith answered. "I have the ability to see multiple futures. In one, I saw you as a Jedi. You were weak, living your whole life as a Temple staff member. A glorified librarian. In another, I saw you as Sith. You were powerful. You commanded your fears and made them tremble before you as you did your foes."

"Me?" she asked, meeting him eye to eye. "You saw _me_? Powerful? And…not afraid?"

He shook his head and reached out to offer her his hand.

After a moment, she hesitantly accepted it. "I don't want to be afraid anymore."

The Sith helped her to her feet. "And you shall not. Not ever again."


	3. Subterfuge: The Tale of Darth Talyn

**Subterfuge: The Tale of Darth Talyn**

**Circa 185 BBY**

Betrayal was the way of the Sith. Treachery was the way of the Sith. Subterfuge was the way of the Sith. But _these_ were _not_ Sith.

Darth Talyn felt ridiculous in these clothes. She was wrapped in bright red and orange robes made of fine silk. _These people_, she thought disgusted,_ are _not_ Sith._

Her master, Darth Lycan, had sent her on a very important mission: infiltrate and destroy the Knights of the Sith, a wannabe Sith cult dangerously close to gaining the attention of the Jedi and possibly exposing the true Lords of the Sith. That was something they just could not have. So here she was, recently recruited and shipped to the barren Outer Rim world of Daris.

Daris was a lifeless rock with barely habitable atmosphere and only two seasons: dark-and-cold and light-and-cold. It was now dark and cold.

Darth Lycan had managed to contact the cult and secure her, under the name of her former self, Syn, an "audition" to become a member of their ranks. The trials she went through were laughable. A Jedi Padawan could have passed them. Needless to say, they were effortless for a fully trained Sith Lord such as herself. She quickly became one of the most revered members.

Over the weeks, she worked herself deeper and deeper into the woodwork. She developed friendships with high officials, the Dark Knights, gaining their trust. She had shown them but a fraction of her power, yet still excelled over every other member within the group. She was careful not to display too much power too fast. She didn't want to arouse anyone's suspicion. It was almost disappointing how easy it had been.

The Knights of the Sith employed a prophet, who was supposedly trained to view the future. He predicted that a student would rise, more powerful than the others, and lead them, and the "Sith," back to their former glory. As soon as Talyn heard of this prophecy, she knew they were powerless to stop her. It was too perfect.

After just three months, rumors that she was this savior reached the upper levels of the cult. Most of its leaders agreed. And so tonight they assembled every member into a great stone auditorium within their temple complex. A platform had been erected at the head of the hall, upon which "Syn" would address the Knights and accept her new role. It was there that she stood now, watching the hall fill.

_Fools_, she thought with a sneer, baring her fangs. The Sith learned centuries ago that vast numbers under the leadership of a single being was doomed to fall. Blind faith was a fatal weakness, one she planned to take full advantage of. Once they finished assembling, she would wipe them out. All of them. All, that is, save one.

One Knight had attracted her attention. He was a Defel whom everyone referred to as Shadow. She sensed a great power within him. Though not the most advanced member by any means, she felt a potential in him greater than any other. He would be spared. She had already sent him on an errand that would keep him safely away from the hall.

Subtly, she reached down to her thigh where she had strapped her lightsaber. Only the leaders of the Knights constructed the ancient weapon, so she was forced to smuggle it in. The rest of the Knights were taught to combat using only the Force. They really had given her all the means to destroy them. She almost felt bad for them. Clueless, the whole lot of them. They had been brainwashed with promises of power and glory, but instead all they would find is pain and death.

The council of seven Dark Knights, gaudy bejeweled lightsabers displayed on their belts, assembled behind her and motioned for quiet. The head of the cult, a tall Pau'an named Ferro, nodded to her, giving her the cue to speak. She turned back and faced the crowd.

"Knights of the Sith," she said, slipping into the role of Syn, "I have been granted the power to lead this order to glory!" She raised her clawed hands in emphasis. "For more than eight centuries, the Sith have been extinct. But now," she said, taking pleasure in the hidden truth of her words, "we shall reemerge as a power in the galaxy!"

The crowd before her cheered.

"The Jedi will be powerless to stop us," she continued. "They will be caught off guard. They will fight and they will die."

The Knights roared in agreement. The sound was deafening.

"However," she yelled. The beings quieted and the Dark Knights glanced at one another, confused. She had deviated from her pre-approved speech. "However," she repeated. Her tone darkened, "none of you will see that day. You call yourselves Sith," she spat, disgusted, "yet you know _nothing_ of the Dark Side. You are no more Sith than the stone which makes up this hall."

She felt a hand roughly grab her shoulder. "What are you doing?" hissed Ferro. It was time.

Talyn reached into her robes and retrieved her lightsaber. In one fluid motion, she ignited it and spun around, plunging the crimson blade through the Pau'an's chest. He bared his pointed teeth in surprise before he died in her arms. She withdrew the blade and allowed him to slump to the ground.

"_I_ am the only true Sith here. We are alive and we are hidden and you will _not_ reveal our presence to the Jedi." Sneering at the Dark Knights, baring her fangs, she said, "And that means that none of you can be permitted to live."

"You have deceived us, Syn!" yelled one of the Knights.

"My name," she hissed, "is Darth Talyn, and deception is of the Sith." A red blur too quick for the eye to see relieved the Dark Knight of his head. The remaining five Knights brandished their sabers, but having nowhere near the training Talyn had, they lasted only seconds. Once the ruling council was all dead, she turned back to the stunned crowd. Several hundred pairs of eyes stared straight at her.

"I'm afraid you must share their fate." She withdrew a small holorecorder to document the purge for her Master. It flew from her hand and hovered above the chamber as she leapt into the crowd and began her task.

"Get her!" someone yelled.

"Yeah! We can take her!"

"She can't be a Sith!"

A circle had formed around her where she landed. Several bodies, already fallen to her blade, lay at her feet.

"Oh, I promise you, I _am_ Sith." She lifted a hand above her head and unleashed a torrent of crippling energy that radiated out three hundred and sixty degrees around her. Those closest to her were killed instantly. The others charged her. For a moment, she was lost as a hundred bodies poured over her. Without warning, all of them were hurled into the air and smashed against the far walls. Talyn smiled. "Is that the best you can do?"

She stumbled forward slightly as a Force blast hit her right shoulder. "Better," she said to herself. Then, with a ferocious roar, she raised her blade and began the slaughter.

Within moments, over two hundred dead pretenders littered the floor, limbs everywhere. She waved a hand and a dozen beings were thrown against a heavy stone pillar. The column cracked and threatened to give way.

One of the more advanced students attempted Talyn's electrical attack but she easily redirected it back at another student, who dropped to the floor, smoking. She used the Force to lift up several beings and smash them together midair.

Wave after wave of them came at her and each time, they broke like water on rocks. They really were pathetic. How could they have hoped to destroy the entire Jedi Order when they were single-handedly being slaughtered by a lone Sith Lord?

She unleashed another wave of devastating lightning. A large mass of them fell before her to the floor, twitching, their clothing seared. She looked around. There were now but a handful left. They realized this, too. The survivors fled for the exit.

"I'm afraid I can't permit you to leave," she purred, sweeping her arm to the side. Simultaneously, the exit collapsed in a shower of stone debris and those closest were thrown aside.

While their minimal Force powers would allow them to clear the debris in time, they would be dead long before that time came. Like a wild animal, she proceeded to savagely attack the remaining survivors, opting to use her claws and teeth in place of her lightsaber. Her predatory instincts took over and the pathetic beings were ripped apart in minutes.

Blood dripped from her jaws and stained her robes as she surveyed the scene. The massacre had lasted less than ten minutes. Hundreds lay dead. She held out a hand and retrieved the holorecorder, stowing it back in her robes. Her master would be pleased.

Wiping the blood from her muzzle, she began clearing the exit of debris. She was surprised to find the Defel Shadow on the other side, frantically digging, trying to get in.

"Syn!" he yelled. "What happened? Who did this?"

With the Force, she lifted him up by the throat. "My master couldn't allow you to draw the attention of the Jedi to the Dark Side. They may have discovered us, the _true_ Sith Lords." Shadow struggled against the invisible grip but was unable to concentrate on countering it. "I have spared you because your potential is great. You could become one of us, a true Sith. I could train you, in secret. My master cannot know. Would you agree to this?" She dropped him.

Landing on his knees, he rubbed at his throat. "Yes," he growled after finding his voice. "I would serve you," he said, "Master."

"Good." She reached into her robes and produced a small metal sphere. A low-yield thermal detonator. She pressed a button and activated it. "Come. I can't risk any of these pretenders surviving to carry on the Knighthood." Shadow nodded and they left the hall. Talyn tossed the detonator over her shoulder. As they stepped outside, a thunderous explosion rocked the ground and a massive portion of the structure caved in on itself.

"Go prepare a ship," Talyn instructed her new apprentice, drawing her bloodstained robes tight against the cold. "We have work to do."


End file.
